


Of Blood and Ink

by parchmentandoldbooks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Marriage Law Challenge, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-05-18 11:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14851898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parchmentandoldbooks/pseuds/parchmentandoldbooks
Summary: A simple solution to a shrinking population after the War, Ministry arranged marriages that will ensure quick and plentiful reproduction. A spell is cast and a tattoo appears, half of a quote that will define the rest of Hermione Granger's life. Will her match be as perfect as the Ministry promises?





	1. A Boundless Love

**Author's Note:**

> to Ruth, harryjcmespotters, for inspiring this story! Also, I am very thankful for Tessa, techtonictigress, for being a lovely support, and an amazing beta! Please let me know what you think! Happy Reading!

"The process of pairing each couple has been well thought out, and the result of great personal study. The Ministry assures all of you, with our utmost confidence, that each union will be a happy and plentiful marriage." Percy Weasley twittered, looking simultaneously repulsed and utterly smug.

Hermione knew that this plan had come directly from Percy himself, leading to his permanent dismissal from the Weasley family. She knew that it had been serious when Molly had actually removed his rat-like face from her clock, effectively erasing his existence from the Burrow.

"Right then, your highness, how about you stop wasting our damn time trying to sell us something we're completely disinterested in?" Draco Malfoy drawled from the back of the room, with the sort of nonchalance only he could muster at a time like this.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Percy smiled, as if there was literally anyone in the large chamber that did not feel the exact same way as Malfoy, "but we cannot risk a dramatic dip in population as the result of so many losses in your age range during the War. It has only been five years and we've already begun to see a sizeable dip in the birthrate. The effects, should this trend continue, would be nothing short of catastrophic to our economy. Think of your mothers and fathers, what would happen to them if we could not support them?"

"Me Mum 'n Da' are both dead, didya forget that?" Seamus Finnegan called from a few rows behind Hermione, "Voldemort wasn't picky about who he murdered ya' know?"

Percy turned a particularly unflattering shade of puce before knocking his puny gavel on the podium sharply. "Here now! You all will be married to an individual who has been pre-chosen by the Ministry or you will be removed!"

"From where, Weasley? From the room? Because if that's all, I'll gladly leave on my own accord."

"Absolutely not, Mr. Malfoy. Individuals not complying with the Ministry's request will be removed from the Wizarding World. You will have your memories wiped and your ability to use magic will be taken along with it."

There was an audible gasp from nearly everyone in the room, except from Harry, Hermione, and Ron who had already accepted their fates. When they had first learned about the Ministry's plans, Hermione had done what she did best. She went to the law library at the Ministry and searched through every tome available in a vain attempt to find some way to stop this. Even pleas to Kingsley himself had failed them; the Wizengamot had already approved the plan and so it would be.

"Oi, Hermione, you work for the Minister. There's gotta be somethin' you can do for us!" Seamus begged, filling Hermione with dread.

Knowing that the news would be at least incrementally better received from her than it would be from Percy, she stood and made her way to Percy's podium where the red headed man quickly stepped aside.

"I'm sorry, everyone," she croaked, her throat dry and tight. "I've looked everywhere, I've tried everything. The Wizengamot has voted in overwhelming approval of Mr. Weasley's ingenious plan and there isn't a single thing that anyone, not even Minister Shacklebolt, can do to reverse their decision. In the end, it seems that we've all been completely fucked by them," she finished, pointing towards Percy.

"Now now, Ms. Granger, I appreciate your explanation. But once again, let me assure all of you that this plan has been carefully crafted. We've consulted with experts in a variety of fields so that we are entirely sure that we have considered every possible hiccup."

"I guess none of 'em told you this might be a bloody "hiccup" then, you right bastard?"

Percy opened his mouth and snapped it shut again, obviously unprepared for the conflict he was facing. As Hermione stood there, looking out at the stunned faces of her classmates, she was tired, more so than she had been in years.

"Sit down, Percy. I'll handle it from here," she commanded before addressing her peers once more. "Look, I know this is terrible. It fucking sucks, I get it, but we don't have any other option. If you really don't want to marry your 'chosen partner,'" she advised, noticing Harry wince at her word choice, "you can leave the Wizarding World, but until then we're just going to have to go along with it."

This approach seemed to quiet some of the protests, she noted with a heavy heart. How in the hell has everything come to this? she thought to herself.

"Well then, Granger, how are we supposed to find out who we're marrying, then?" Malfoy asked, raising a sleek blonde eyebrow.

"That's quite simple!" Percy exclaimed, making to stand again.

"Percy. Ignatius. Weasley. I am the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, Order of Merlin: First Class, and therefore outrank you in every conceivable manner. Sit down and be quiet before your blundering makes everything worse again."

"That may be, Ms Granger-"

"SIT!" she barked, barely holding back her desire to hex the man.

"The Special Counsel for the Management of the Wizarding Populace, in all of its infinite wisdom, has decided that it would be terribly romantic to reveal everyone's partner through the use of a tattoo." Hermione explained, unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the Ministry's obnoxious showmanship. "Each partner's tattoo will have one half of a quote, one that represents their character. This fun exercise will help each couple find common ground from the very beginning of everyone's joyous union. Now, unfortunately, Mr. Weasley will be the one to perform the charm and then, who the hell knows what comes next." Hermione finished, leaving the podium and slumping back into her seat.

Percy awkwardly rose and clapped his hands together, cutting the stunned silence sharply. "Well, since we're all ready then, Revelare," he mumbled, waving his wand in a long arc.

Hermione's arm burned where she was sure some clinical looking script was appearing that would lead her to her "soulmate". She couldn't bring herself to watch as she still hoped that this was all an elaborate prank.

"We all keep our fingers crossed...Blimey, it's the Cannon's motto isn't it? We all keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best!" Ron whispered next to her.

With this, Hermione felt a small wave of relief. At least the Wizengamot had spared her from a lifetime with Ron.

"What's yours say, Harry?" she heard Ron ask.

"With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It's from Annabel Lee, Ronald. It's a poem by Poe, he's a muggle author from America." Hermione answered, not turning to face either of her friends.

"Cheers, then. Wait, 'Mione, you haven't told us what yours says. Maybe if we're lucky you got one of us!"

Hermione frowned at Ron's optimism. She doubted, thankfully, that she had been paired with either of them. It wasn't that she didn't love both of them, it was just that she loved them like she would a brother, and she was entirely convinced neither would make her happy.

"I don't know what mine says, and I don't really want to know."

"Here, Hermione, let me read it. That way you can know without having to look at it," Harry murmured, taking one of her hands in his with a gentle squeeze.

She held out her left arm, which Harry took in his hands and slowly pushed the sleeve of her jumper out of the way. She felt faint with nerves as her blood pounded painfully in her veins.

"'My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep'... Do you recognize that, Hermione?" Harry asked, pulling her to his chest.

"Yes." She sighed into his shirt. "'The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.' It's from fucking Romeo and Juliet. How happy. Now that we've solved that mystery, I'm going to the loo," she declared, feeling her eyes beginning to burn with angry tears.

Without waiting for either of them to try to comfort her, Hermione briskly walked towards the doors to the chamber. She kept her eyes fixed on the doors, not wanting anyone to ask her what her tattoo says and dreading the thought of finding the second half.

As soon as she had managed to push her way back into the lobby outside of the chamber, she felt better. The air here was cool and quiet, and for the first time in hours, Hermione felt like she could think straight. She made her way to a bench in the corner of the room, wishing that she could melt into the floor. She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn't notice someone had followed her until they sat down next to her.

"My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep, the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite, huh, Granger?" Draco Malfoy asked, fixing his silver eyes on her.

"Go to hell, Malfoy. Now is not the time to be an utter fuck."

"Not as infinite as Will imagined, I see." He chuckled, holding out his left arm where, above his Dark Mark the the second half of the quote was written in fine script.


	2. Empty Glasses

“Why in the sweet fuck, are you laughing, Malfoy?” Hermione demanded, irritated to hell and back that he seemed so amused by this mess. 

“Because it’s all a bit too ironic isn’t it? Who ever would have imagined that we would make the ‘perfect union’? I would suggest that you take your own advice though, Granger. If you’re right about the firm ass-reaming the Wizengamot just handed down, which obviously you are, you’re going to have to get used to me.”

“Excuse me, but who in the hell do you think you are? I know bloody damn well that I’m right. I know bloody damn well what I told everyone else, but I sure as fuck know that this is never going to work.” She shouted, perhaps a bit hysterically before bursting into tears. 

“Alright, Granger. I’m glad to see you’re pissed about this,” Draco whispered, pulling Hermione into his chest to muffle the sounds of her sobs. “You haven’t given up on us yet, then. In the meantime, I think you and I could both use a strong drink, and there isn’t a single useful thing we can do here, anyway.” 

“Why are you being so kind to me, Malfoy? I’ve done nothing but shout at you.” Hermione asked, her voice muffled.

“Well,” Draco replied, loosening his grip on her so that he could look her in the eyes, “I suppose you are my fiancée. Furthermore, ‘happy wife, happy life’ and all? As hard to believe as this may be, I have changed since Hogwarts, you know.” 

“Cheers, then.” Hermione offered weakly, before rising shakily. What in the fuck was that? She thought to herself, stunned by Malfoy. 

Wordlessly, Draco stood and wrapped his arm tightly around her waist before apparating them away. 

 

When they landed, Hermione stumbled on an uneven gravel lane, but found herself wrapped in Draco’s embrace once again. The air was warm and salty, and she thought she heard waves in the distance. 

“Woah, Granger.” He smiled, looking almost angelic in the soft sunlight. “Let’s get inside now.” 

“Not to sound ungrateful, but where did you drag me?” 

“We’re in France, just outside of Saint Paul de Vence. This house was given to my mother and father as a wedding gift.” 

“Cheers, then.” Hermione replied, too tired and confused to protest any further. 

She followed Draco through the garden to the front door of the house, watching him intently . He seemed to be as confident as ever, that was for certain. He seemed much healthier than he had throughout most of their childhood. To Hermione’s irritation, he had grown into his sharp features and filled out his well tailored suit far better than she would ever admit. God damn it, Hermione! Pull yourself the fuck together! Now is not the time to be admiring the man who made you absolutely miserable for years! 

“After you, Granger,” Draco drawled, holding the solid-looking wooden door open for her. 

Hermione tentatively stepped over the threshold, imagining the interior of this house to be a mirror image of the Manor. Upon entering the vaulted foyer, she could see that it was entirely different. There seemed to be sunlight coming from every direction, reflecting off the crisp white furniture that was arranged throughout the expansive sitting room. There were flower vases bursting with color on nearly every surface, and many of the couches and armchairs had cozy looking throws resting on their seatbacks. 

“Cheerful, isn’t it?” Draco asked, grinning at her obvious disbelief. “Mother had the whole place redone after the War, along with the Manor.” 

“It’s stunning, certainly.” 

“Come on, Granger. Maybe your tongue will loosen up with the help of a strong drink.” 

Hermione silently followed Draco into the kitchen where he rummaged in a few of the white cupboards. Moments later, he was passing her an ornate crystal tumbler of firewhiskey before pouring his own. She settled on a comfortable wooden bar stool facing Draco across the wide granite island. 

“Why this quote, Granger?” He asked her, raising a quizzical eyebrow as he took a sip. 

“It’s pretty? I don’t know, Malfoy, it’s not as if I’ve picked it out myself.” 

“That’s quite strange. It made sense to me, especially when I’d figured out who I’d matched with.” He challenged, obviously trying to engage Hermione in some discussion. 

“Yes, I suppose it is logical, the use of a quote from Romeo and Juliet to describe our pairing. Although, I think ‘This is thy sheath; there rest, and let me die.’ would have been more appropriate, given the circumstances,” she countered.

“What if it’s not about the dagger, what if the sheath is a metaphor for Romeo’s dick?” 

“You’re such a fucking man, aren’t you, Draco Malfoy? Only a man would read dick in that scenario. Of fucking course it’s literal, she’s literally about to stab herself, in the heart, with the damn dagger. As much as this might pain you to admit, no man’s penis has even been able to inflict a mortal wound.” 

“Cheers, then.” 

“What? What in the hell do you mean, Cheers?”

“I got it from you, Granger, you tell me.” he smiled smugly. 

“Why are you being so damn casual about this?!” 

“Why are you so hell bent on being a holy terror about this? I understand not wanting someone else telling you who you have to marry, but we’re in the same boat here.” 

“You didn’t answer my question, Malfoy.” 

“Granger, this has been my entire life. I’ve never been in control of who I marry. My parents were going to choose some rich pureblood for me anyways, and that was that. If anything, this arrangement has added some much needed spice to my life.” 

“Too bad, Malfoy. Did you think I’d just forget about all of those inconvenient years in which you made my life a living hell? I don’t even care that you were a Death Eater, but what you did to me, what you called me, that was all personal.” 

“Of course I didn’t think you’d forget. And you shouldn’t. I hope that you spend the rest of your life reminding me what I did to you, to everyone. I deserve that, Granger. Hell, that’s probably why the Ministry thought we’d be good together. There’s no fucking way you’d be some subservient little wifey, and there’s no way I would be remotely happy with someone who was.” 

“How stunning, Hermione Granger, Order of Merlin: First Class, nagging wife of Draco Malfoy,” Hermione deadpanned, downing the rest of the liquid in a single gulp. “Another.”

Draco only smiled and shook his head as he filled her glass. “You wouldn’t take my name? How progressive of you,” he said, his voice full of false awe. 

“Why in the hell would I want to throw an essential part of my identity away? Why shouldn’t my children be able to enjoy the privileges I’ve earned for my name?” 

“You say that as if the Malfoy name has never come in handy. Even now, it’s a surprisingly useful commodity, Granger. I think we should compromise, Malfoy-Granger has a nice ring to it.”

“It’s Granger-Malfoy. It has to be in alphabetical order, otherwise it sounds wonky,” she corrected, finishing her second drink. “Another.” 

Draco looked at her curiously, but did not refuse her request, replenishing her drink once more. “Who would have thought Hermione Granger would be drinking me under the table?” 

“What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.” 

“And immense modesty,” he teased, refilling his own glass.

“Fuck modesty. All it gets you is a shockingly pointless job working for unappreciative pricks.” 

“Aha! There it is! The Malfoy spirit is alive and well in you yet!” Draco cried, raising his glass. 

Hermione indulged him, stifling a laugh and clinking hers before they downed the firewhiskey. 

“You never told me why you brought me here, of all places.” 

“You never asked.” 

“Why in the hell did you bring me here, Malfoy?”

“Calm down, Granger. I figured that you’d prefer something private instead of a crowded bar. I also thought taking you to the Manor would be painful for both of us. I always feel better here, no one knows that I’m here so they can’t bother me. I come here when I need to get away from the world.” 

“It’s lovely. I wish we could stay here forever.” 

“Why wish? We can stay here for as long as you’d like. I own the place.” 

“Maybe you can, but I have a job. I have a life in London. I can’t just drop everything.”

“Oh, Granger, there are so many flaws with that statement. One, I have a job. I am the CEO of one Ectropy Internations. Two, there is nothing, including your cat, that cannot be taken care of here. Three, you can damn well drop whatever you want to. You do not owe anyone your life. Furthermore, when we get married, assuming you don’t find your way out of it, you won’t need to work.” 

“Okay. Okay, I’ll write to Kingsley and tell him I’m working remotely. I’ll pack a bag and pick up Crookshanks and I’ll stay here.” 

“Wait, what did I say?” 

“What? You put in all of that work convincing me and you don’t even remember what you said?”

“No, of course I bloody remember what I said. I’m just not sure how I managed to convince you so easily. Normally you’d be telling me that I have a fucking screw loose.” 

“Convincing me to stay here, as opposed to my dim little flat, is significantly easier than convincing me to marry you.” 

“Is that a challenge, Ms. Granger?” 

“Why the hell not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. Goodness. Y'all have been so sweet to me already! I'm so glad that so many of you seem to be as excited about this fic as I am! I hope that this chapter is enjoyable! Once again, a huge thank you to Tessa, techtonictigress for beta-ing this chapter. Happy Reading!


	3. The Skinny Dip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. Goodness. Y'all have been spoiling me with so many sweet, supportive comments! I hope to keep the chapters coming quickly for you all, since you seem to be enjoying it almost as much as I enjoy writing it! Big thanks to my beta, Tessa, who has been the bomb.com! Big thanks to everyone who has read, commented, left kudos, or shared on Tumblr. You all blow my mind!!!

Over the next hour, Draco and Hermione managed to finish off the bottle of firewhiskey. They had moved to one of the sofas after her fourth, his third, and had ended up in an intimate cuddle by their last. 

“I could marry you, Granger. You’d be so fuckin’ happy with me. I know you’d be.” 

“Maybe you’re right, Draco. Let’s just stay here forever. FUCK it all!”

They fell silent, seemingly content with being close in their drunkennness. Before long, Hermione had fallen asleep, her head resting solidly on his shoulder. Draco stayed where he was, afraid that even the slightest movement would wake her. After some time, the alcohol had worn off and Draco realized that it had gotten very late. 

Gently, he picked Hermione up, cradling her small body in his arms, and headed up the stairs. He wasn’t sure if any of the other bedrooms were suitable for guests and decided that this wasn’t the time to check. He kicked open the door to his own bedroom where he lay Hermione on the bed. 

She looked so small, so fragile in the expanse of his silk sheets. Her face looked at peace, something he realized was increasingly rare with her these days. Of course her job had to be stressful, Draco acknowledged, but he was certain that Hermione put too much pressure on herself. He imagined it must be difficult being one of the Golden Trio, everything they did was constantly scrutinized and debated by the public. While Draco had been born into it, Hermione had suddenly been thrust into the spotlight, and her ambitions and career plans didn’t make much room for privacy. 

As he tucked the down feather duvet around her, Draco felt a certain fondness for the witch he had been paired with. Maybe this marriage business won’t be so bad afterall. She was certainly fiery, with a kind of quick wit that kept him on his toes. She wasn’t anything like the complacent, porcelain doll types that purebloods often produced; Hermione Granger wasn’t afraid to call anyone out. Their theoretical marriage would be a passionate one, that much was certain. 

Suddenly aware of his own fatigue, Draco made his way to the doorway where he paused to turn out the lights. As he did, he allowed himself one final glance at the bed, feeling a whole storm of emotions. With a heavy sigh, he left the room and softly closed the door behind him. As he descended the stairs, Draco Malfoy knew that he was in trouble. 

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he awoke on the couch the next morning, everything hurt. His whole body had gone stiff from being forced onto the couch at odd angles and his head was pounding with the distinctive wrath of Ogden’s best.  
Fuck me, he thought, that’s the last time I drink angry with Granger. Slowly, he made his way to the kitchen, where he retrieved a vial of Pepper-Up Potion from the liquor cabinet, wincing at the smell of alcohol that floated out. He downed the foul tasting liquid in one gulp before washing it down with a glass of water from the sink. Feeling a tad more human, he looked out over the gardens, quickly deciding that it was the perfect time for a swim. He thought about going to change into his trunks, but thought that waking Granger might be a fatal mistake, especially if she felt as remotely as shitty as he had upon waking. Fuck it he thought, as he pushed through the french doors to the pool deck. He made quick work of stripping out of his wrinkled clothes, making a mental note to have it dry cleaned, and dove into the cool water without hesitation. 

The water felt like the finest silk on his skin, gently caressing his limbs and coaxing them to release the tension they were holding so tightly. He quickly fell into a trance-like state, pistoning his arms out of the water before thrusting them back, making his way to the end of the pool before kicking off and starting again. For the first time in weeks, he allowed himself to think of nothing. He concentrated on his breathing and the way his muscles flexed as he moved through the water, but nothing else. For a few moments, as the sun warmed his back, he could almost trick himself into thinking he was on holiday. Maybe that’s what we both need, time away from work and everything else to figure out what the fuck we’re doing here. 

He was so entranced, he hadn’t noticed Hermione appear in the doorway, or open the door, or even as she crossed over the polished concrete to dip her feet in the pool. It was only when he paused, his lungs burning, to catch his breath that he finally saw her. 

“Shit, Granger! When did you get here?” he asked, suddenly aware of his own nudity. Why in the hell did I decide this was a good idea?” 

“Good morning to you as well.” She deadpanned. “I’ve been here for a few minutes; I couldn’t find you inside when I woke up. What do you want for breakfast?” She asked, slipping her feet out of the water and standing. 

“Do your worst, Granger. I will warn you though, the kitchen hasn’t been properly stocked. It might be difficult to make something edible with dried lentils and tap water.” 

“In that case, I’m going to the market,” she replied, turning on her heel and crossing the deck toward the house. 

“Hold on, Granger. Give me a few minutes to get dressed and I’ll go with you. Speaking of, you could look through my mother’s closet for something to change into if you’d like. You seem to be about the same size.” 

“You want me to wear your mother’s clothes? Do you have some sort of hidden Oedipus complex, Malfoy?”  
“Don’t be ridiculous, Granger. I thought you might prefer to wear something a bit more casual and far less wrinkled. Besides, my mother has impeccable taste.” 

“Fine.” 

“Cheers. Now...er...would you mind tossing my pants over here?” 

“What’s the point? I’ve already seen it all,” she said dryly, dropping his pants on the edge of the pool before disappearing back into the house. 

This is sure to be interesting, Draco thought to himself, as he struggled to pull his pants over his legs, still wet from his swim. 

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione certainly hadn’t expected Draco to be swimming in the nude when she woke up this morning. She really hadn’t planned on ever seeing Draco naked, if she was being completely honest. It certainly complicated things; Draco looked as fit as she had suspected yesterday. His body was tight and muscular, but every movement was imbibed with a natural grace. Stop thinking about a naked fucking Draco Malfoy, Hermione. 

She busied herself looking through the enormous closet Draco had brought her to, wondering how it was possible for one person to have this many clothes. In a vacation home, no less. She quickly found a light chambray dress that wouldn’t be too hot in the summer sun. She quickly changed before sitting at the vanity, determined to do something to tame her hair. Hermione was thankful to find a comb in the shallow drawer as she pulled it through the mess of tangles that had sprung up overnight. 

As she reached to gather her hair in a low bun at the nape of her neck, the delicate tattoo on her wrist caught her eye. She hadn’t really taken the time to examine it before now, but as she studied it she found herself admiring the delicate script. I suppose there are worse things to have on your body, she thought, tracing a finger over the faded scar Draco’s own aunt had given her. It is a romantic notion, endless love that grows infinitely. It all could have been worse, all things considered, she decided. Not wanting to keep Draco waiting any longer, she quickly pinned her hair into place before taking a large sun hat from the rack in the closet and making her way back to the living room. 

She found Draco sitting in an armchair, apparently deep in concentration. She gently knocked on the doorframe, not wanting to frighten him. 

“I’m sorry I took so long.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Granger, it took you fifteen minutes.” She felt embarrassed that he knew that, embarrassed that he had been paying that much attention to her. 

“Well, should we be going then? It’d be a shame to have all of the good things gone by the time we get there.” 

“Alright, we can apparate to a small pub near the center of town and walk from there.” 

“How long is the walk to get there from here?” she asked, trying not to notice the strange way he looked at her. 

Hermione was dismayed to see that Draco had changed into a fitted pair of khaki trousers that skimmed over his lower half. His white linen shirt, unbuttoned to the third button, revealed the hard planes of his chest. She tried to focus on anything besides the memories of his naked body. It wasn’t fair that he had her so flustered when he seemed to be going about everything as if it were business as usual. What in the hell, Hermione? You’re not even THAT attracted to him. She figured that it was probably useless to convince herself that Draco wasn’t attractive, she’d just be fighting an uphill battle. That doesn’t mean you can’t just admire from afar, she reminded herself. 

Her musings were interrupted when Draco responded, “Probably about twenty minutes or so. There’s a path along the cliffs that runs to town.” 

“Can we walk? It seems like such a shame to miss out on such a lovely day.” She asked, looking longingly at the bright blue sea. 

“Of course, Granger. Then we’ll have time to make a list.” He smiled, leading her to the front door.


	4. When in Rome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all amaze me! You touch my heart with your sweet support, and I am forever grateful! For this chapter and the next, I'm posting before my beta has read through, and will update later. This is an experiment, and I'd love your input. Doing things this way means that I can update quicker, but there might be grammar/punctuation mistakes that I haven't caught. Please let me know what you think! As always, Happy Reading!
> 
> -Hannah

Hermione felt suspiciously calm, thankful for the warm sun and the waves that were crashing upon the rocky shore beneath them. Even though the war had ended years ago, she had never been able to shake the feeling that she was being hunted. Although the Death Eaters had been replaced by relatively harmless paparazzi jockeying to get a photograph of her; it was unnerving to be followed constantly. Her social life was immensely complicated, new friends often didn't like the attention, or they seemed to like it more than they did her. Dating was impossible, any time she was seen out with a member of the opposite sex the papers foretold the ringing of wedding bells in the near future.

By her count, she had been engaged 16 times, pregnant 10, and secretly married 6, if the newspapers were to be any indication. She knew that most of the people who actually knew her paid no attention to the scandalous headlines, but it was difficult to ignore them altogether. She had overheard plenty of debates concerning her character in line at the supermarket as women flipped through the pages of magazines that made unsavory speculations about her personal life.

If only they knew how wrong those ridiculous magazines were, they'd fucking collapse, she thought bitterly. Her "relationship" with Ron had ended as soon as Fred had been covered with dirt. There wasn't anything passionate to sustain any sort of romantic partnership, and the thought of being married with a herd of red-headed children filled her with dread. She had maintained a rather loose relationship with Viktor, spending nights together at their convenience, but eventually he found a kind German girl to settle down with. Everyone seemed too cookie-cutter and perfect. Everyone seemed to be back to normal, as if the War had never happened, or at least they pretended to feel that way.

Maybe Draco was right about us, maybe he's still broken too, she thought as she looked out over the sea.

"What are you doing, Granger?" he asked, coming to a stop next to where she had abruptly paused.

"Admiring the view, I suppose."

"It is something, isn't it? Seems remarkable that places like this still exist, that we haven't managed to entirely fuck them up."

"Do you think we've fucked ourselves up, Draco?"

"No. Of course not, Granger. The ones who fucked us up were the people like my father and my aunt."

"But are we really much better?" she asked, turning to face him, "We watched each other die and yet all we've done is build a few statues and light some candles. We haven't done a damn thing to actually move past any of it. Remembrance is all fine and good, but eventually people aren't going to remember what it was actually like, being there. Too many of us know what it's like to use the Unforgivables, but none of us will talk about it."

She didn't wait for him to respond, instead she continued down the rocky path in silence. She wasn't sure that he was still following her until he reached out and stopped her.

"I'm here, Granger. I know what it's like. I lived through hell just like you did. I haven't forgotten. If you want to talk, if you need to talk, I'll be here." He said, looking into her eyes with such great intensity Hermione felt herself growing hot.

"Cheers. It looks like we're getting close then" she replied, pointing at the cluster of wind worn stone buildings at the bottom of the hill.

"Right you are, Miss Granger. Welcome to St Paul de Vence proper. It's a charming little town of people who are always tripping over themselves to say 'bonjour'."

"Sounds sweet. I've always though Provence was rather special. It's a nice break from all the rain in London."

"Well then, I suppose we should get on. I'm terrified to imagine the terror you'd be if they run out of grapes."

"Fucking prat."

For some inexplicable reason, Draco was nervous as he led Hermione to the bustling market at the center of town. She was so goddamn intense, it scared the hell out of him. He wished that she would let her guard down and actually talk to him because otherwise, there was no hope of him ever figuring her out. As they walked through the narrow cobbled streets, he studied her, trying in vain to be inconspicuous.

"What in the hell are you staring at, Malfoy?"

"I'm not staring, Granger."

"Let me rephrase then; what in the hell are you looking at?"

"If it vexes you so, I'm looking at you, Hermione."

"And why in the fuck would you be doing that?"

"There's two reasons, really. The first, you fascinate me. You're so closed off to the world and then, out of nowhere, you drop some philosophical bomb on me. I'm sprinting to keep up with you and you haven't even broken a sweat. Second, you're beautiful. It would be a shame not to admire you."

"Is that what you tell every girl you bring home with you?" she deadpanned, not missing a beat.

"Why in the hell do you insist on being so infuriating, Granger?"

"That was a valid question, Malfoy. I honestly wonder if this is a habit of yours. I don't see how that's infuriating of me."

"Let me assure you, Hermione, this is not a regular occurence. You're actually the first woman I've ever brought here. It's not the question itself though, it's the way that you don't even acknowledge that I've complimented you, as if I've said something that is completely obvious."

"Well why shouldn't my beauty be completely obvious? Why should anyone be surprised that they're beautiful? It's just a part of being human, we're all innately beautiful. Let's not pretend though, Malfoy, that you would react any differently."

"Touché, Granger. Tou-fucking-ché."

They were quiet as they entered the town square, where vendors and farmers had set up dozens of tables and stalls to sell all sorts of local foods.

"Let's do a lap first, to decide what we should actually get." Hermione decided, starting her way down the first aisle.

Draco followed, watching Hermione as she studied each booth, smiling at each of the vendors as she passed. She moved like fine silk, effortless and fluid, and people seemed to unconsciously watch her as she made her way through the crowd. He suddenly felt protective of her, as if he wanted everyone to know that she was here with him.

"What do you think?" He asked, as he took her left hand in his right.

"About what? Your hand?" she asked, looking pointedly at their hands.

"Sure. Or the market, witch."

"I like it." she replied, not elaborating but not removing her hand from his either.

They strolled along, occasionally stopping to admire various bits of produce and fresh fish. Eventually, Hermione seemed to have abandoned her plan, and decided that the assorted fresh fruit offered at one of the stalls looked too good to pass up. She slowly made her way down the length of the table, carefully examining each piece before handing it to the merchant who gently placed it into a large paper bag. When she had finished, the man simply handed her the bag before nodding at Draco. With a gracious smile, Draco took the bag from Hermione and led her further through the market.

"What the hell, Malfoy? Why didn't you pay that man?"

"Relax, Granger. He'll send a bill to the house. We've been coming here for years, everyone knows me. We pay double the market prices, and we don't have to worry about carrying money with us."

"Is there literally anything in your life that isn't better because you're rich?"

"Well, people hate me even more now because I'm rich and the Ministry didn't seize the entirety of the Malfoy fortune, but I suppose that could be the introvert's dream." he joked.

"Fuck."

"What? It's true. It's always been that way though, probably since the beginning of the line."

"Now I feel like a bitch for asking, though. I sound like such a fucking brat."

"Hermione. I've been rich for my entire life. I've been a Malfoy for my entire life. If you think this is the first time anyone has ever criticized me for having things easy, you're terribly mistaken. The best part about being rich though, is realizing that it doesn't really matter what people think of you. Sure it fucking sucks that people think my family is a little scummy, rightfully so I might add, but that doesn't keep them from letting us do things. Money opens doors like nothing else, Granger."

"I need bread. And a drink. Let's hurry this along so that we can make both of those things happen."

"As you wish."

Hermione was surprised at how natural it felt to meander through the market. She had been surprised when he held her hand, but as the crowd grew thick she had decided that it was rather pragmatic, if not a little pleasant. By the time they had shopped to her satisfaction, she was hot and hungry, and her feet were pleasantly sore.

"What do you say to stopping for lunch, Granger? I think we've missed our opportunity for breakfast at this point."

"Lead the way, Malfoy."

Draco obliged, leading her to down a tangle of streets to a charming little café with a cluster of tables around the door.

He gently helped push in her chair as they sat at an empty table, clearly demonstrating his well-mannered upbringing. Hermione read the menu as Draco ordered a bottle of wine for them to share.

"A bit presumptuous, isn't it? It's barely noon and you're ordering alcohol."

"When in Rome, Granger. It's an aperitif, after all."

"Uh huh, Malfoy. What's good here?"

"It's all good, really. I am partial to the bouillabaisse, though."

"You know what, Malfoy. Surprise me. I'm not picky, and I'm sure you know better than I do."

"Well in that case, we'll have one of everything." He grinned, making Hermione's heart do a rather impertinent flip.

"You are ridiculous, Draco Malfoy." she replied, unable to hide the smile that had begun to spread across her face.


	5. Something Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really just couldn't wait to share this one with y'all! *Smut ahead, you've been forewarned!* Please let me know what you think, and what you might like to see, especially as we meet the other couples in the coming chapters! Happy Reading!   
> -Hannah

The next morning, Hermione was immediately thankful that she had stopped by her flat to pick up some of her things. It was nice to have Crookshanks and her own clothes to wear instead of having to borrow things from Narcissa. 

The air was already uncomfortably warm, and the intensity of the rising sun made her think that this was only the beginning. She walked to one of the large windows and threw it open, pausing to breathe in the salty air. I could really get used to this. Suddenly, Hermione remembered Draco’s morning swim from the day before, thinking exercise was just the thing she needed. She rooted around in her bag for her swimsuit, quickly finding the bottoms, but as she reached the canvas bottom, she realized that she must have left the top at home. 

Fuck it, she thought, not wanting to miss out for the sake of false modesty. It’s not as if you haven’t seen him naked. She changed, throwing on a linen blouse before padding downstairs. She was surprised to find the pool empty as she quickly stripped her shirt off before lowering herself into the water. She swam a few laps before deciding that she’d rather let herself float along the surface of the water, enjoying the bright sunlight. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” Draco asked, startling her as he sat down at the edge of the pool, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. 

“Only if you share your coffee with me.” 

She swam to the edge next to him as Draco extended his arm, offering his mug to her. 

“Happy, now?” 

“Incandescently.” she answered, her voice thick with sarcasm. 

“Cheers.” he shot back, stripping off his shirt and joining her in the water. “Did you sleep well?” He asked, entirely too close to her. 

“Mmm” 

“Glad to hear it, Granger.”

“You shouldn’t have brought me here, Malfoy, you’re never going to be able to get me to leave.” 

“Would that be such a bad thing, Hermione?” He whispered, moving even closer. 

“I suppose it has its perks.”

She had to admit, Draco’s charm seemed to be wearing her down. After lunch, she and Draco had spent a few hours wandering through the rest of the city center, passing the time as they windowshopped. When they got back to the house, Hermione had gone for an afternoon nap, as the hot sun had worn her out, and when she awoke Draco had prepared a lovely dinner for the both of them. 

It was the sort of romance that Hermione had always hoped for, even if Draco Malfoy was the one romancing her. He was thoughtful, kind, and certainly generous. He listened to her, actually listened, and he didn’t get upset when she was sarcastic with him. She didn’t feel like she needed to hide anything from him, it wasn’t as if there were a ton of secrets about her life anyway. 

It was no surprise then, that when Draco pulled her flush against his body and kissed her that morning, Hermione kissed him back. It was intoxicating, the way he held her tight and kissed her slowly, as if there was nothing else in the world. Hermione could feel her resolve slipping, damn him. 

A sudden shout from inside the house broke them apart, both slightly panicked at their proximity and the thought of an intruder. 

“Draco! Draco Lucius Malfoy! I know you’re here somewhere!” 

“Shit. It looks like my mother popped by. I’ll go take care of her, don’t worry, Granger.” he cursed, pulling himself out of the pool and jogging into the house. 

Not wanting to be caught in such a state, especially not by Narcissa Malfoy herself, Hermione quickly slipped out of the pool before pulling her shirt back on. She decided to sit at one of the tables at the far end of the deck, hoping that Narcissa wouldn’t have any reason to come outside. 

She tucked her legs underneath her, closing her eyes and letting the sun warm her skin. Just as she thought she might fall asleep, Draco popped his head out of the door. He had dressed in a plain white button down and some navy shorts, apparently speaking to your mother in your swimsuit was a faux pas. 

“Granger? You can come inside now if you want. She’s gone.”

“Alright then.” she replied, crossing the smooth concrete and entering the kitchen. 

As she passed through the door, her stomach let out a low grumble, reminding her that she had not eaten since dinner last night. 

“Hungry?” he chuckled. 

“Apparently so.” 

“In that case, why don’t we put some of our fruit to good use?” 

“Be my guest, Draco.” 

“Well, step aside, Granger. There’s work to be done.” Draco joked, grabbing a cutting board and a knife from the knife block. He gathered a variety of the fruit they had picked up at the market the previous day that he gently washed in the sink. 

Hermione was sitting on the cool counter, watching him move about the kitchen with remarkably efficient grace. Why did you have to be so handsome? She lamented, unable to deny the attraction she felt any longer. 

His tanned arms flexed and tensed rhythmically as he made quick work of chopping the various fruit stacked next to the cutting board. With his eyebrows furrowed in intense concentration, Draco’s features looked even more stately, even more rugged than usual. 

The growing heat in her sex caused Hermione to squirm, desperate for any friction that might relieve her building arousal. 

“Why are you squirming, Hermione?” He asked, raising an eyebrow but not looking away from his work. 

“I’m not squirming.” she grumbled in response, feeling her cheeks grow warm. “I would appreciate an orange though.” 

“Well then, Miss Granger, all you had to do was ask.” He murmured before carefully slicing the skin of an orange from his pile.

Hermione watched as his fingers deftly peeled the fruit away from its peel. Not fucking helping. 

When he had finished, Draco moved so that he was standing directly in front of her, trapping her where she sat. Silently, he raised a single slice to her mouth, watching as she bit into the soft flesh. 

She felt a bit of the orange’s juice run down her chin, leaving a sticky trail in its wake. As she swallowed the bite, Draco raised his thumb, gently wiping the drop of juice off of her chin. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, he raised it to his own mouth where it disappeared between his full lips. 

“Sweet.” 

Hermione was overwhelmed with her genuine desire, need, for Draco. She tore at his shirt, determined to feel his skin against hers and with a single firm tug; she had sent the tortoiseshell buttons flying across the room. 

“Witch.” He hissed in her ear, before biting down on her earlobe. 

“What are you going to do? Fuck me?” she taunted, grabbing his silken hair and roughly pulling his lips to her own. 

She ran her tongue across his lower lip, nibbling it gently, before flicking it into his mouth, letting out a low moan when their tongues met. They frantically fought for dominance as Draco pulled Hermione flush against his torso and she raked her nails down the flesh of his back. 

“Fuck.” he whispered when they separated. 

“Yes.” 

“Fuuuck.” he groaned in response, palming her breasts through her the thin linen shirt. 

Hermione was immediately grateful that she had opted to go topless for her daily swim as Draco lowered his head to suck and bite each of her nipples. She was in ecstasy, her head lolling backwards as she revelled in his touch. Everywhere Draco’s warmth met her body, she burned; her entire body humming in anticipation. 

“Now.” She begged, arching her back. 

“I’m not done, Hermione.” he growled, quickly pulling her shirt over her head. “So fucking perfect, Hermione.” 

He continued his thorough exploration of her breasts, kneading each with an expert hand. Unable to take the aching of her own arousal any longer, she rolled her hips against his, moaning loudly at the friction.

Without warning, Draco gently laid her back upon the countertop. Keeping one hand busy with her breasts, he used his teeth to quickly untie the sides of her bikini bottoms. Holy fuck. Letting them drop to the floor, he quickly made use of the other. First, he teased her, tracing up and down her slit with the gentlest of touches, before gently opening her folds. Draco seemed to waste no time in taking advantage of the exposure of the sensitive bud of nerves, eagerly sucking into his mouth. 

With that, Hermione arched her back, her mouth hanging open in a silent moan. THIS. This is how sex should have always been, her conscious screamed. She had no doubt that Draco would bring her to orgasm, very little doubt that he would do it many times over before the night was up. 

All too soon, he moved his mouth away. “So sweet, Hermione.” 

“Fuck. You.” 

In one smooth motion, Draco was above her. “Tell me what you want, Hermione. Use that pretty little mouth and I’ll do anything you want.”   
“Draco fucking Malfoy, if you do not let me orgasm in the next five minutes, I will strangle you with my bare hands.” 

Without warning, Draco plunged a slender finger into her, slowly pumping it before adding a second. Hermione gasped, savoring the sweet relief that washed over her as he finally gave in to her. 

“Is that better, Princess?” he growled, sending a shock straight through her. 

Hermione could not form a coherent answer, settling for a moan instead. When she did not respond, he withdrew his fingers entirely. 

“Use your fucking words, Princess.” 

“Fuck me, Draco. Now.” 

At once, he shoved his shorts out of the way before placing Hermione’s calves on his shoulders. She shivered as he ran the tip of his dick up and down the length of her slit, teasing that same bundle of nerves, before finally aligning himself and thrusting deep inside of her. 

“Fuck, Princess.” 

“Use your fucking words, Draco.” 

“You’re so fucking tight and wet and hot. This is so fucking perfect. Holy fucking fuck, Hermione.” 

After thrusting into her a few times, Draco suddenly wrapped her legs around his waist and picked her up. Without separating, he carried her to the wall; holding her there as he drove himself home. 

“I’ve dreamed of this for so long, Hermione. Your tight little ass in that Hogwarts skirt used to drive me fucking wild, Granger.” he growled, cupping each side of her bum in each of his hands. 

“Used to, Malfoy?” 

“Still does, Granger.” 

They fell into a focused silence, occasionally interrupted by a gasp or a moan. Draco continued pistoning his hips into hers, becoming more erratic as he reached his own release. 

“Come on, Granger.” he grit. 

“Come on what, Malfoy?”

“Come for me.” 

“Make me.” 

With that, Draco snaked one of his hands in between them, teasing the sensitive bud of nerves, coaxing her ever closer to orgasm. 

“Look at me, Granger. I want to watch you as you fall apart.” he commanded, as he sucked on her neck. 

The man had perfect fucking timing, as Hermione’s eyes flew open and her mouth formed a silent “Oh” as her orgasm crashed over her. Draco wasn’t far behind, holding her close and reaching his own climax with a shudder. 

He carried her into the living room, where he collapsed on one of the couches. Hermione tried to move off of him, but he wrapped his arms around her, refusing to let her leave. 

“Where in the hell do you think you’re going, Granger? If you think I’m letting you squirm away any time in the immediate future, you’re mad.” 

“Why in the fuck not, Malfoy?” 

“Can we not have an intimate moment, Granger?”

“Sex wasn’t an intimate moment?” 

“Give me a fucking break, Hermione.”

“I’ll give you five minutes.” Hermione replied, resting her head on his chest, suddenly very sleepy. At least it’s warm, she thought as she closed her heavy eyes.


	6. The Afterglow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I'm sorry for the delay in posting, errands and gardening took ahold of my life for a little while! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter, and I promise that we'll find out who some of the other couples are VERY soon! In other news, I'm thinking about doing a "Christmas in July" challenge for the month of July where I would post a one shot every day of the month. If it's something you'd be interested in, please send me either a.) a Private Message on Fanfiction *not a comment* with a prompt (it can be as detailed or minimal as you wish, but please note I may combine multiple small prompts to create one bigger one) OR b.) an ask/message on my Tumblr (my handle is parchmentandoldbooks as well!). As always, Happy Reading!   
> -Hannah

By the time Hermione woke up, the sun had already set. There was an insistent tapping coming from one of the large windows; clearly the large owl perched there had a message of great importance for one of them. She tried to lift herself off of Draco’s slumbering form as deftly as possible before grabbing the throw that had been draped across the back of the couch for protection. 

“Granger,” Draco whined, cracking one sleepy eye open to watch her as she crossed over to the window. 

“There’s no chance of sleep with this bloody owl, Malfoy. Furthermore, you seem to have gotten far more than your allotted five minutes.” 

“Would it actually kill you to be affectionate for once? Here I had been thinking that we were having a grand old time, and that we were getting along quite nicely for once.” 

“Draco, as much as I have appreciated everything that you’ve done, and as much as I enjoyed the sex, I don’t think that either of those things is enough to really change our circumstances. I don’t want anyone telling me who I have to marry.” 

Hermione couldn’t help but feel like shit as Draco’s smile fell incrementally. As much as she thought honesty was important, especially in their current situation, she couldn’t help but hate that Draco seemed to be hurt by her statement.

“Cheers, then, Granger. We’re just roommates who do things together which, may or may not include having sex. Glad we’re on the same page,” he replied, seeming too casual to be genuine. 

“Draco, I’m sorry. That came out differently than I had hoped...it’s not-”

“Don’t worry about it, Hermione. There’s no harm done. Since we’re done here, I’m going to head up to bed. Make sure you shut the window when you’re done, yeah?” he interrupted, abruptly turning away from her and making his way up the stairs. 

Fuck, she thought to herself, feeling like she should chase after him but having no idea what she would say if she did. Damn it all to hell. As if it sensed that her attention was elsewhere, the bird increased its attack on the windowpane, pecking it so hard Hermione thought it might crack. 

“Alright you pathetic pile of feathers, I’m coming!” she shouted, feeling cross at the world. 

The owl wasted no time in hopping onto the window sill and extending its leg where a large piece of parchment had been tied. Why in the hell would anyone be sending a letter at this time of day? she wondered, impatiently breaking the wax seal and unrolling the letter. 

“‘Mione, 

We were all worried about you when you vanished after the meeting with the Ministry the other day.”

How in the hell does Harry know where I am? 

“Narcissa told Pansy who told me that you had been paired with Malfoy, and that the two of you were in France.”

Of fucking course she did. 

“We all miss you terribly, and you’ve missed a great deal of excitement at home. I’m hoping that you’ll still be here for dinner on Sunday night, it would be a great time for us all to catch up. If you do come, be sure to bring Malfoy along. Look after yourself. 

Love, 

Harry” 

Hermione finished reading and looked at the letter dumbly. She had hoped that Harry would fill her in on all of the details regarding the other pairs, or how they were fairing, but also knew that it would be his bargaining chip to ensure that she wouldn’t miss their Sunday dinner. Damn him. She was too tired to worry about replying now, and didn’t want to bother Draco to ask him about it. Time for bed,she decided, latching the window and heading up to bed, leaving the owl in the living room. 

 

Draco awoke in a foul mood the next day. Why in the fuck would you think that sex meant anything? When did you turn into such a fucking sap? He threw back the covers and immediately pulled on a pair of athletic shorts, needing something more demanding than a swim this morning. After shoving his feet into his trainers, he quietly made his way out the front door and started off towards the path that led to the beach at a brisk jog. 

As he settled into a rhythm, he couldn’t help but think about what Hermione had said last night. Her words replayed in his head, making him feel like shit for thinking that anything in their relationship had changed. Shaking his head, he pushed himself to pick up his pace, hoping that it might distract him. 

He knew that he was probably being too sentimental about all of this, it wasn’t as if they had had some whirlwind romance. Sure, he had put more effort into impressing her than he had any other woman he had previously been with. Maybe that was what made her different though, as much as this marriage would be arranged like any other would have been, Hermione wasn’t carefully chosen by his mother on the basis of her family’s prestige and her public image. That’s not to say his mother hadn’t been overjoyed at the prospect of welcoming Hermione Granger herself into the Malfoy fold, but she was certainly never presented to them like a pawn. She was always so unattainable, something that was decidedly out of character for a Malfoy. Even though marriages were carefully organized, the women chosen to marry into the clan were always the best that the pureblood crop had to offer. Hermione was the best the entire Wizarding world had to offer and damn him if he didn’t want her. 

He pushed himself harder, feeling his legs and chest beginning to burn as he dug farther into the loose sand with each stride. Damn it all to hell. 

 

The house was eerily silent when Hermione woke up. She had grown accustomed to hearing something to remind her that Draco was there: pans in the kitchen, the running water of the shower, the lapping of the water in the pool. Maybe he hasn’t woken up yet, she told herself, trying to quell the tangle of guilt that had settled into her stomach. Unable to fall back asleep, she made her way to the ensuite bathroom and turned on the shower; watching her reflection as the mirror fogged. Who in the fuck are you, Hermione? 

She tried to occupy herself with each small task: taking great care in soaping up the sponge, combing her fingers through her wet hair, watching as the suds disappeared down the drain. Hermione was filled with a sudden sense of dread as she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. She knew that she would have to face Draco eventually, but she hoped that the hurt in his eyes had softened from the poignant sadness they had shown her last night. 

She tied on her robe, deciding that putting too much thought into her appearance would make everything look artificial. As she made her way downstairs, she couldn’t help but notice that Draco’s bedroom door was left open, revealing an unmade, yet empty, tangle of sheets and blankets. His absence, and the marked stillness in the air, did nothing to soothe her nerves. It was unsettling to be alone for the first time since before she had received that damned tattoo. 

She padded through the living room, noting that the owl who had delivered Harry’s letter was sleeping on the mantle, before making her way into the kitchen. There were no dishes in the drying rack, so she assumed that Draco hadn’t had anything for breakfast yet that morning. Thinking that it might be an effective, yet understated peace offering, she gathered ingredients from around the kitchen and set herself to making breakfast. 

 

When Draco finally returned to the house after his run, he was surprised to hear Hermione in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure why that should have surprised him, maybe he thought that she would spend the day avoiding him. He paused in the entryway, kicking off his sand covered shoes, before making his way into the kitchen to greet her. 

“Granger? Why in the hell is there an owl on my mantle?” he yelled, stopping to examine the unfamiliar owl. 

He was alarmed when he only heard choked sobs in response. What the hell? 

“Granger...Hermione, I swear it isn’t that big of a deal.” 

“Draco, I’m sorry!” she sobbed, covering her face with her hands. 

What in the hell is going on? “Relax, Granger. It’s no big deal, it’s only an owl, after all.” he whispered, pulling her close and smoothing down her hair. Draco wasn’t sure why on earth a bloody owl provoked this sort of reaction, but chalked it up to one of the many mysteries of womanhood. 

“It’s not the bloody owl that I’m sorry about. I’m sorry because I hurt you. I didn’t mean for you to take what I said to heart, it certainly isn’t anything you’ve done. I’m just not used to the idea of dating, let alone marrying someone without any sort of prior romantic context.”

Despite her watery hiccups, Draco felt his heart soar. So maybe she was open to the idea of being with him, maybe it was working! 

“Hush, Granger. Don’t worry about it. You’re lucky that I am generous enough to pretend like that conversation never even happened. I must admit though, I wasn’t expecting you to have such a strong reaction to it.” He smiled, releasing his grip on her so that he could look into her eyes. 

“I felt miserable when I woke up this morning, and then when you weren’t anywhere to be found, I thought you had left me here…” 

“Oh, Hermione, I told you that I’d be here. I meant what I said you silly girl. Sure, I didn’t like hearing that you were still opposed to marrying me, and that everything that had happened didn’t count, but I wouldn’t have left you stranded here. You could’ve trashed the place,” he teased, lifting her chin so that she was forced to meet his eyes. 

“Where in the hell were you, anyway?” she grumbled, laying her head on his chest. 

“I went for a run. I suppose I could have left a note, though.” 

When Hermione rolled her eyes at him before twisting out of his grasp, Draco knew that all was right in the world, at least for the moment.


	7. Expectations Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I really really apologize for the extended hiatus I seem to have taken from writing. I've been dealing with some stuff, and am only now feeling up to returning to writing. Your support means the absolute world to me, and I'm thankful for each and everyone one of you who has read, commented, liked, etc. this story. Second, this chapter will be short, a bit of a tease, but I felt like I needed to get it out in order to motivate me to keep on keeping on. Thank y'all so much!
> 
> All my best, Hannah

That Sunday, as Hermione dressed for the weekly dinner that was normally exclusive to their usual trio, she felt sick with nerves. For once, she had no idea what she was walking into and it made it impossible to plan her manners. At least they already know about Draco, she acknowledged, imagining the outrage that might have taken place had she surprised them with Malfoy. There was no guessing who Ron and Harry had been paired with though. Someone who likes quidditch and another someone who reads American Muggle poetry, I guess.

She paused at the mirror so that she could smooth out the invisible wrinkles in her white sundress, admiring the way that the eyelet lace looked next to her warmly tanned skin. Spending time away from the stress of work had clearly done her some good, and she supposed the relaxation Draco had been so kind in providing hadn't hurt either.

Hermione still wasn't sure how she felt about their arrangement, though. It felt, and was, she supposed, entirely unnatural to begin a romantic relationship solely as the result of a Ministry declaration. There was no way of knowing exactly why the Ministry had paired them, and there remained some doubt as to how harmonious the matches would actually be.

With one final look in the mirror, Hermione slipped on a comfortable pair of espadrilles and grabbed her handbag before heading downstairs to meet her companion. She couldn't help but feel like their idyllic time was coming to an end, and another wave of uncertainty washed over her as she considered what life with Malfoy might be like beyond this small town.

Her apprehension was soothed, at least slightly, when she saw him, lounging on one of the plush sofas with the ease that only Draco Malfoy could employ. He had dressed casually but with his usual touch of refinement, a trait that had certainly grown on Hermione over the past week. It amazed her that everything seemed to come so naturally to Draco; even her foul moods just after their pairing hadn't been enough to knock him off kilter.

Before she was finished admiring him, Draco noticed Hermione hovering in the doorway, and quickly rose to meet her.

"All set then?" He asked, his eyes conveying a hint of concern.

"I am as ready as I'll ever be." she breathed, feeling her cheeks grow warm when Draco took one of her hands in his, giving it a light squeeze.

Her heart did a little flip in her chest when Draco gave her a lopsided smile, "I don't know what you're worried about, Hermione. It's not like you're the one they call Ferret; don't think I didn't know about that, by the way."

As if he could sense Hermione's resolve faltering, Draco gently led her to the front door, ushering her into the night.

Despite the countless times Hermione had arrived at Harry's door for dinner, she knew this time would be completely different. There was no telling who would be waiting around the round table, or how her friends would be handling their pairings. It seemed that the uncertainty had even begun to affect Draco, who looked stiffer and more formal than Hermione was used to.

"Are you ready, Draco?" she whispered, raising her eyes to meet his.

"As long as you're with me, Granger, I'm ready for anything."

With a final reassuring squeeze to her hand, Draco reached past her to knock on the door, effectively ending their chances of escape.

When Harry appeared at the door moments later, his expression of delight made Hermione believe that maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Mione! I'm so glad the two of you made it!" He grinned, pulling her into a bear hug, "Welcome to my home, Malfoy." He added, extending a hand to Draco.

"Call me Draco, Harry." Draco smiled warmly, before offering the bottle of wine he had insisted upon bringing, telling Hermione that it would be completely uncouth to show up empty handed.

"Come on in, then. Everyone else is already here."

Hermione felt a strange sense of excitement building, she had to admit she was certainly curious to find out who the Ministry had matched Harry and Ron with. She hadn't given it much consideration since she left the meeting room, and had no idea what to expect.


	8. The Dinner Date

When Hermione entered Harry’s small kitchen, she nearly stumbled with shock. “Pansy? You like the Cannons?” She asked, forcing herself to close her mouth at the end of the question. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hermione. I have much better taste than the Cannons.” Pansy replied, smiling as she rose from her seat at the island to greet the two newcomers. 

“But then, that means…” 

“Yeah, erm, turns out Pans is a fan of Poe. Who would’ve guessed?” Harry laughed, keeping his eyes on Pansy. 

“You always have secretly been the tortured type, Parkinson.” Draco teased, giving Pansy a familiar hug that entice a twinge of jealousy from Hermione. 

“Well, Malfoy, my match was still less obvious than the two of you.” 

“What?” Hermione asked, feeling stunned that anyone could have predicted her pairing. 

“Surely, Hermione, Draco has told you by now how incredibly infatuated he was with you while we were at school.” Pansy smiled, looking far warmer and genuine than Hermione had ever seen her. 

“Well, no, he hasn’t.” 

“In that case, will you be the one telling her, Draco, or shall I?” 

When Hermione snuck a glance at Draco, she found that he had turned an uncharacteristic shade of pink, 

“As truly romantic as that sounds, Pansy, I would prefer to be the one to share my own secrets.” Draco drawled, before turning to Harry, “How about we uncork that wine, Potter?” 

“Wait, where’s Ron? He is coming, isn’t he?” Hermione asked, suddenly noticing the third man’s absence. 

“He said he was, but you know Ron. I think if he was on time for something, he’d leave just so he could be late.” Harry replied as he poured the wine into four glasses before handing them out to each guest. 

“So, what’s on the menu then, Potter?” Draco asked, after a long pause had fallen over the room. 

“We’re having Sunday roast, as we do every Sunday.”   
“Who would have expected Harry Potter to be so bloody predictable in his adult life?” 

“Believe it or not, Malfoy, I think I’ve had enough adventure for the rest of my life, and then some.” 

Again, a hush fell over the room, as the four seemed to consider their own lives. Just as Hermione was beginning to grow uncomfortable, Pansy broke the silence. 

“Why don’t we sit and chat as we wait on Ron and his guest to get here?” 

“Of course, that sounds like a lovely idea.” Hermione replied, feeling grateful for Pansy’s refined manners. 

The group made their way into the living room, Pansy and Harry settled on the couch, leaving the smaller sofa for Hermione and Draco. 

While Draco seemed completely at ease with the situation, casually draping his arm on the sofa behind Hermione, she couldn’t help but feel like she was having an out of body experience. She suddenly missed the quiet nights spent together at the Villa, where there wasn’t any pressure to be anything that they weren’t. 

She supposed that she should be used to the constant need to keep up appearances by now, but with Draco it felt wrong. It wasn’t as if they had had a real relationship, or even a real friendship before their pairing, but the bond that they had forged seemed so new and fragile that Hermione wanted to protect it from the world. 

As if he could feel her worrying, Draco began rubbing small circles on her shoulder with his thumb. Before long, Hermione felt herself relaxing into the firm warmth of his side, feeling very grateful that Draco had agreed to come along. 

Finally, Pansy excused herself to use the loo, and Harry decided that he needed to check on the roast, leaving Hermione and Draco alone. 

“Are you having a good time, Hermione?” Draco whispered into her ear, still rubbing her shoulder. 

“I am, Draco. I must admit, it does feel a little funny for us all to be sitting around like old friends, and I wouldn’t be opposed to making a break for the Villa.” Hermione smiled, unconsciously snuggling a little closer. 

“Now listen here my lioness, we are going to stay for the rest of this dinner, and then I’ll whisk you off again for as long as you’d like.” 

Hermione’s heart gave a flip at Draco’s possessive statement, and she decided that she might like the way it sounded. Before she had a chance to reply, she heard the front door open and a familiar voice call out. 

“Oi, Harry, where are you, mate?” Ron called,and Hermione and Draco returned to the kitchen to meet the new arrivals. 

With the usual clunking, Ron appeared in the doorway, looking stunned at what he found. 

“What in the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?” He growled, looking at Harry and Hermione for explanation. 

“Ronald, Draco is my partner. He was invited here just as your partner was, who we all look forward to meeting.” Hermione said, trying to be more gracious than nervous. All at once the security Draco had lulled her into had dissipated. 

Ron looked like he still had more to say, but a glare from Harry seemed to be enough to silence him for the time being. Clearing his throat, he stepped aside to reveal his own match. 

“Susan? It’s lovely to see you.” Hermione smiled, hoping to put the other woman at ease after Ron’s outburst. 

“Thank you Hermione, I’m glad to be here.” Susan replied, giving a small, tight smile. 

“Well, everyone, I think that dinner is ready.” Harry chimed in, obviously trying to diffuse some of the tension that had settled on the room. “Would the two of you give me a hand getting everything served while our guests are getting settled at the table?” he asked, giving Hermione and Ron a look that indicated there was no room for debate. 

“What the hell, Ron?” Harry hissed, trying to make sure that the others wouldn’t hear their conversation. 

“I’m not going to apologize for not wanting to have dinner with Malfoy, Harry. I can’t believe the Ministry paired him with you, what the fuck?” 

“Ronald Weasley, I will not have you ruining this night for everyone. If that’s the way you feel about the situation, one that is entirely out of anyone’s control, I will gladly leave.” 

“Hermione, come on, it’s Malfoy.” 

“It wasn’t a problem until you got here, Ronald. Harry, we’ll be leaving, we can set up some other time to get together.” Hermione finished, giving a quick kiss to Harry’s cheek before stalking into the dining room. 

“Draco, something has come up, and I’m afraid we’ll have to leave early.” she said, unable to meet his eyes. “It really was lovely to see the both of you again, we’ll have to get together without the boys sometime.” Hermione added, trying her best to salvage some of the night. 

Without questioning her, Draco quickly made his goodbyes with everyone and followed Hermione to the door, where she swiftly apparated them back to the villa. 

 

“Do you want to talk about what happened, Granger?” 

“You mean that Ron is a fucking arse?” Hermione replied, storming toward the door, wanting nothing more than to bury herself under the covers and spend the next week in bed. 

“Hermione,” Draco whispered, taking ahold of her arm and pulling her back towards him, “as much as I hate to admit it, Ron’s reaction was far from unexpected. You’re the Golden Girl,” he continued, brushing loose hair behind her ear tenderly, “no one would ever expect you to be with someone like me. People don’t think that I deserve to have anything good ever again. Most of the time I agree with them.” 

“Draco, I don’t believe that.” Hermione interrupted, reaching up to cup Draco’s cheek. 

“Thank you for that, Granger, but it doesn’t change the way that other people see me. From where I am, this pairing is the greatest thing that could have ever happened to me, but for you, it’s probably the worst. I know that, and I feel so guilty for bringing you down by association.”

Hermione’s eyes burned with tears, of both sadness for Draco and anger at Ron. “Fuck him, fuck them all, Draco. They don’t know you, not really. You’re not like they were, the Death Eaters, I don’t think you ever were. Fuck the people who think that they know who I am! I don’t even know who the hell Hermione Granger is anymore. I’ve given up my entire life to the wizarding world and I’m still never allowed to just be happy.” she sobbed, feeling something inside of her break apart completely. 

Draco simply puller her tight against his chest and smoothed her hair. “Shh, it’s all going to be alright, Granger. You’ve got me, and you’ll have me for as long as you want, and even longer than that.” 

Hermione let herself be safe and comforted in Draco’s embrace while she finally let go of so many things that she had been holding in for too long. Without saying anything more, she allowed him to guide her inside, where he pulled her onto his lap on the couch. 

When she had finally cried herself out, Hermione rest her head on Draco’s shoulder. 

“So, Ms. Granger, how about I tell you the history of my infatuation with one beautiful lioness?” Draco whispered, smiling at her. 

Hermione couldn’t, and wouldn’t stop herself from kissing him, “I’d love to hear it, Draco.” she replied, feeling like things might be alright after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are so AMAZING. I feel so incredibly lucky to have so many loyal and supportive readers, it really blows me away. I'm so glad that so many of you are still excited about my story, and I really hope that I can do you all justice. Thank you all, again, it means the world to me.   
> \- Hannah


	9. The Realization

Hermione took a sip of wine, enjoying the way the warm air felt as it gently caressed her exposed skin. She and Draco had moved out onto one of the cliffs overlooking the sea, which looked even more magical now that it was bathed in moonlight. 

“It was that dress that did me in, Granger.” Draco sighed, bringing her attention back to their earlier conversation. 

“What dress, Malfoy? We wore uniforms the entire time we were in school.” 

“Don’t be daft, the dress that you wore to the Yule Ball. You were breathtaking. I think I could have strangled every male in the Hall that night just so that no one else could look at you.”

“You really never learned to share things, did you, Malfoy?” 

“Hermione, I would be a complete moron if I enjoyed the idea of sharing your attention with anyone.” Draco replied, taking a sip of his own drink. 

“But the Yule Ball was in our fourth year. You hated me long after our fourth year.” 

“I never hated you, Granger.” Draco whispered, studying the amber liquid in his glass before downing the rest in one gulp. “Even when everyone around me told me that I should hate you, I couldn’t do it. I know that sounds rich, coming from me, but it’s the truth. I came so close to confessing everything to you that night, when Ron fucked everything up, but by then I knew that pretending to hate you was the best way to keep you safe. I couldn’t bring you into such a fucked up world, and I couldn’t risk anyone finding out about my feelings for you.” 

Hermione felt her eyes burning with tears as they sat in silence, staring out at the calm waters beneath them. 

“Watching Bellatrix do that to you, in my own fucking house absolutely destroyed me, Hermione.” Draco continued, his voice growing thick with tears. “I never believed in any of that pure-blood bullshit, but watching that bitch try to break you, I knew then that they were wrong. You were stronger than any of them, Granger. You showed them how fucking wrong they were. You showed me that there could still be good in the world, even when the world was falling apart.” 

With tears flowing freely, Hermione reached to take Draco’s hand in her own, hoping that it might convey some of what she needed him to know. 

“You’re too good for this world, Granger.” he whispered, before placing a kiss on the back of her hand. 

“I always knew that you weren’t like them, Draco. I saw the way that you looked at me while Bellatrix was on top of me, and I knew.” Hermione breathed, moving closer to him. 

The magnetic pull that she had felt since he had approached her in the hall felt stronger than ever. She had never felt so connected to anyone, and it overwhelmed her. Hermione wanted nothing more than to be closer to Draco, for them both to feel alive again. 

“You aren’t broken, Draco Malfoy, not even close.” she whispered, bringing his face close to hers so that she could kiss him. 

It didn’t take any convincing for Draco to deepen the kiss, sending shivers straight down Hermione’s spine. Before she knew what was happening, she felt her back meet the soft earth, her neck cradled in one of Draco’s hands. 

“Neither are you, Granger.” 

“Show me, Draco.” 

With that, it was if any restraints had broken. Draco hoisted her into his arms, and Hermione felt dizzy as he carried her briskly towards the house. Feeling impatient, Hermione let out a groan of protest, wriggling in Draco’s firm grasp.

“Absolutely not, Granger. I am going to take my sweet time ravishing you, and I don’t intend to do it anywhere other than my own bed.” Draco growled, his breath warm in her ear. 

With that, Draco crushed Hermione even tighter to his chest, giving her room to do little but breathe in his scent. She felt as if every fiber of her being was vibrating with anticipation, playing back memories of the first time she had had sex with Draco. 

Draco had wasted no time in navigating through the house, and without warning, Hermione found herself being tossed onto his bed. 

“Sweet Merlin you are utter perfection, Hermione.” Draco breathed, lowering himself onto her and peppering her neck with soft kisses. 

“I want to see you, Draco.” 

Without stopping, Draco began unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging out of it and letting it fall limply to the floor. 

“Ditto, Granger.” he whispered, smiling when Hermione’s skin broke out in goosebumps. 

Hermione quickly grabbed the hem of her dress, lifting it over her head before tossing it to the corner of the room. 

“Eager are we, princess?” 

“What if I said yes?” Hermione countered, feeling her confidence swell as Draco lay back to admire her while she started on his belt. 

“Well in that case, Granger, I can die a happy man.” 

“Well in that case, what if I said no?” Hermione asked, smirking. 

“I’m completely convinced, Granger, I could get you to reconsider.” Draco growled, deftly swinging a leg over Hermione’s waist, trapping her underneath him. 

“Scared, Princess?” 

“Never.” Hermione replied, bringing Draco’s face to meet her own. 

She felt every nerve in her body come alive as Draco trailed his fingertips over her skin, drawing lazy patterns that left a burning trail in their wake. She couldn’t believe how good it felt to be touched, how he could elicit such responses from her without even trying. 

“Let yourself go, Princess. Let me take care of you.” Draco whispered, kissing her earlobe and stroking her cheek. 

The tenderness in his words and touch made Hermione’s heart ache. She know that he meant it and that these weren’t only sweet nothings. He had been taking care of her, the entire time they were at the villa. From the moment he had found her after their pairings had been revealed, Draco had gone out of her way to comfort her. 

A single tear rolled down her cheek, a testament to her realization of Draco’s devotion to her. 

“You really want me?” she asked, her voice hoarse. 

“I’ve always wanted you, Granger, and I swear that I always will. I’ll want you when you’re old and gray and every day until then.” Draco replied, kissing her softly. 

“Make love to me, Draco.” 

“I thought you’d never ask.” He grinned, before pulling Hermione close and kissing her deeply. 

 

When Hermione awoke, she felt more rested than she had in months, years even. She supposed that sex might have had something to do with it, but that sharing Draco’s bed was the true culprit. 

He had held her close and stroked her hair as they fell asleep, and every time Hermione shifted in her sleep, one of his arms would pull her snugly to him. 

Is this what every morning with Draco would be like? Hermione wondered, turning over to admire her companion. 

She was surprised to find that he was already awake and holding a book. 

“Good morning, Princess.” Draco whispered, smiling at her as he placed a finger in the book to mark his place. 

“Mmm,” she smiled back, stretching her arms above her head, “how long have you been awake?” 

“A while, I suppose. I’ve had a good book and a lovely view though, so I can’t complain.”

Hermione felt herself blushing, suddenly becoming aware of her own nakedness as she felt Draco’s bare skin shift against hers. 

“Tea?” she asked, hoping that it might buy her an opportunity to redress. She was suddenly self-conscious, not knowing where they stood this morning after their intimacy last night. 

For all you know, this could be an act, she reminded herself, knowing full well that the circumstances that had thrown them together had been far from the usual laws of attraction. 

“I thought you might be the type to take a cup first thing, Granger.” Draco smiled, reaching to the bedside table to retrieve a steaming cup of tea. “Milk and sugar?” 

“Erm, both please.” Hermione replied, sitting up while clinging tightly to the duvet. 

She gave him a tight smile as he passed her the cup, and wished she would have requested something stronger instead.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Granger?” Draco asked her, as he reached over to brush a stray hair away from her face. 

I’m terribly confused about this entire situation, thank you for asking Draco dearest Hermione thought to herself, not knowing the best way to approach the situation. 

She couldn’t help but think of the way Draco’s face had fallen after her reaction to their first sexual encounter, and knew that she didn’t want to cause him any further pain. 

Why does this have to be so bloody difficult? She lamented, feeling frustrated with the mess of emotions that seemed to be clouding her judgement. She had never felt so many feelings, intense feelings towards one person in her entire life. 

“I really just don’t know what in the hell is going on with my life anymore and I’m scared as hell.” She blurted out, feeling herself grow red at such an upfront confession. 

Might as well go all in then, Hermione, she thought to herself, trying to muster up the courage to be honest with Draco. 

“When we’re here, alone, it’s like living in a dream. Sometimes I think that maybe I could do this for the rest of my life and it wouldn’t be miserable, that it might even be enjoyable. But then I’m reminded that there is a world beyond this house and this town, and that there are other people who can, and will, think and say things freely.” 

Draco seemed to be relaxed as he listened to her, allowing Hermione to give herself the mental permission to continue on. 

“I’m not used to not being control of my life, Draco. I’m not the type of person who lets people push them around so easily, and I don’t want to be trapped in a marriage that wasn’t built on real, romantic love just for the sake of keeping my wand. I’ve already tried everything that I can think of, but there’s just nothing that I can do.” 

“Is that what you think this would be, Hermione?” Draco asked, his voice low and his eyes gazing out through the window across from the bed. 

“What? Do I think this might be enjoyable?” 

“No. Not that, Granger.” he sighed, before turning to meet her gaze, “Do you really think that our marriage would be loveless? That we couldn’t be genuinely happy together?” 

“I don’t know, Draco. Do you think that you could love me? That you could be happy waking up next to me, or even in the same house as me?” 

“I can’t answer that, Hermione.” Draco whispered, looking pained. 

“Why the hell not? If the answer is no, then I deserve to know! If you can’t even be honest with me now, there’s no fucking way a marriage between us would work.” 

“Don’t be daft, Hermione. I can’t answer you because it wouldn’t be right for me to try to convince you to feel any certain way towards me. I know how I feel about you, and I know it for certain, but you still aren’t sure how you feel towards me. I’ll wait for as long as you need to figure things out for yourself, but you have to be honest with yourself first. You’re not just some prize to be won, and you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” 

Hermione looked away, fighting back tears. What in the hell? 

Without speaking, Draco slipped out of the bed before pulling on a dressing gown and leaving the room, gently closing the door behind him. 

Hermione understood that he only meant to give her time to herself, but her chest tightened and the air seemed to evacuate her lungs as he closed the door. 

You are absolutely in love with Draco Malfoy, Hermione. There can’t be any more denying it. 

She reached over to pick up his pillow, hugging it to her chest and breathing in his scent. Of course he feels the same way, Hermione, she realized suddenly, recalling all the times he had said it in less specific terms. 

He had told her, just the night before that he would want her even when she was old, hadn’t he? He had never failed to comfort her, or to notice when she wasn’t herself. 

Hermione had been so caught up in the circumstances of their pairing that she hadn’t ever allowed herself to consider that there might be a genuine attraction between them. 

While she still didn’t like the circumstances, the realization that there were real feelings beginning to develop between them helped to put Hermione at ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the continued support! I've been on a break from school at the moment, and writing took a backseat, but I'm back at it again! 
> 
> Also, if you have any ideas for one-shots (prompts/pieces of dialogue/headcannons, etc.) that you'd like to see me write, my inbox is always open! You can send them my way via pm or on Tumblr (@parchmentandoldbooks)! 
> 
> All my best, 
> 
> Hannah


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